Vorpal Blade (20 page)

'The head could have been thrown into the sea,' Newman
suggested.

'Could have, but I don't think so, the way my mind is
working.'

'That was horrible.' Paula had opened her eyes. 'I saw
it all happening the way you described it.'

'In Maine,' Tweed went on, 'the corpse was carefully dropped into the crevasse, where it would be found. At
Bray, Holgate's headless corpse was dropped into a shallow
stream, where again it would be found. The
modus operandi
is exactly the same in both cases.'

There was a grim silence in the office for several minutes.
Monica had stopped typing, her face ashen.

'Still doesn't make sense,' Paula protested eventually.
'According to Professor Saafeld the same axe was used in
both murders. No one would dare transport that by air -
thinking of passing through security.'

'There's a way of pursuing that,' Tweed decided. He
asked Monica to try and get Roman Arbogast on the
line.

'Tweed here,' he said when the throaty voice answered. 'I'm wondering whether anyone has approached you recently about the Adam Holgate case.'

'I've ordered Broden to take any such enquiries. Do you
wish to speak to him?'

'No, thank you. Sorry to bother you.'

'I'd like to meet and talk to you, Tweed. Give me
another call when you can.'

The call was once more ended when Arbogast slammed down the phone. Tweed heaved a sigh of relief. 'Changed
my mind at the last moment. Wrong approach. Get me
Jim Corcoran on the line please, Monica . . .

'Jim. Do you know of any way that Roman Arbogast
could fly the Atlantic in complete privacy?'

'Certainly do. He keeps a big Gulfstream parked here
in a secluded area. All one of his passengers has to do is
to bring me their passport before departure. No Customs
check. Then they fly off.'

'That's a very unusual concession.'

'Between you and me there's a reason. Arbogast has
coughed up a huge sum towards the expense of building
a fifth runway. So we help him.'

'You said passengers. Plural. Any names? As you know,
I'm conducting a murder inquiry, a pretty grim one. Roy
probably told you on the quiet.'

'He did. Names? Have to search my memory. Sophie,
his daughter - Roman's. Marienetta, his niece. Blackjack
Diamond, the gambler. A Dr Abraham Scale. Oh, and
Sam Snyder, the crime reporter.'

'You have an amazing memory. Any dates of when they
did fly?'

'Sorry. I just check the names, recall them. They always
carry
a note for me, signed Roman A.'

'Are these recent flights?'

'Very. Within the past two or three weeks. Which is why
I remember the names. That Gulfstream has been off the
ground a lot.'

'Any one destination?'

'Always Boston.'

12

'Hello,' said Tweed on the phone.

'That's Tweed, isn't it? Recognize your voice.'

Marienetta. He recognized her distinctive way of speak
ing.

'Yes, it is, Marienetta. Is there a problem?'

'A whale of one. Could I ask you to come over here
quickly? It's a gym. Charlie's Physical. It's in a basement.
In King Street, Covent Garden. Stand facing the Strand
and it's on the right. A war's started.'

'I'll be over right away. Do I come alone or bring Paula
- and maybe Newman?'

'Bring the cavalry!'

'On my way . . .'

As he put on his coat he told Newman and Paula, suggested they came with him. Newman drove them in
his car, zigzagging round the back streets and driving far more slowly down King Street. It was Paula who spotted
the gym.

'Two buildings down,' she called out. 'The white board
over the basement windows. And that car's pulling out. You can grab his slot.'

Leaving Newman to shove coins in the meter, Tweed
led the way down an iron staircase, followed by Paula.
Beyond a door they emerged into a large well-equipped
gymnasium. Marienetta was standing, arms folded, in a
leotard, close to Sophie cycling like mad on a machine.

Black Jack Diamond was a distance away, lifting weights
while he watched the two women.

'Peace reigns,' Tweed called out amiably.

'It bloody well doesn't!' shouted Sophie.

She stopped cycling, ran over and picked up some
barbells. She paused for a moment, breathing heavily.
Tweed noticed that Sophie, also clad in a leotard, was
as tall as Marienetta but heavier. She screamed the words,
glaring with venom at Marienetta.

'You always do this, you bloody thief.' She looked
at Tweed. 'Black Jack and I are going to get married.
Marienetta hears, starts working her wiles on him. She's
done it with other boy friends I thought I had in the
past.' Her voice was rising ferociously. 'This time she's
not getting away with it. I'll kill her . . .'

She rushed towards Marienetta, the barbells held to
strike. Black Jack was suddenly behind her, one arm
round her slim waist, the other grasping the barbells. She
struggled, but he held her close to him. This went on for
maybe half a minute before Sophie slumped. He removed
the barbells as she sat on the floor. Suddenly, with Black
Jack well clear of her, she jumped up, screaming again,
her face convulsed.

'No one can have a man except you. So you take them
all off me. Because you're nothing but a bloody whore!'

Marienetta snapped. She walked slowly forward. Her
right hand moved like a whip. She gave Sophie a powerful
slap with her hand on the right-hand side of the face.
Sophie staggered sideways. Tweed moved forward with
the speed that had surprised Paula in the past. He held
one arm over Marienetta's chest, the other over Sophie's. His voice was biting, harsh.

'Stop this nonsense or I'll call the police. Roman will
love the newspaper headlines. With pictures.'

It was the power of his voice as much as his words
which defused the situation, although Paula noted that
Marienetta was now perfectly calm, her expression neutral.

Fortunately there was no one else in the gym. Sophie
backed away. She turned to call out. 'Jack, get your clothes
on while I do the same. Then let's get the hell out of this
place . . .'

'Could you wait for me, please,' Marienetta called out quietly to Tweed. 'I'm a quick dresser.'

'Take your time. No hurry,' he assured her.

'You handled that well,' Paula said as the three of them
left stood in the empty gym, waiting for Marienetta to
reappear. 'Did you see the look on Sophie's face? It was
murderous.'

'Well,' Newman commented, 'she did threaten to kill.'

'I got the impression Marienetta wanted to talk to you
on her own,' Paula told Tweed. 'With just the two of you
together she may talk more frankly.'

'You could be right,' Tweed agreed.

'So Bob and I are late for an urgent appointment. We'll
see you back in the office . . .'

Only a minute after they had gone Marienetta walked
towards Tweed, dressed in a smart grey two-piece business
suit. She frowned.

'I haven't chased your friends away, I hope.'

'They had to rush to another appointment. They give
you their warm regards. Where shall we go?'

'That was tactful of them.' She smiled. 'I doubt if they did have another appointment. There's a coffee shop just
down the street . . .'

It was a smart place with black marble tables, comfort
able leather chairs, an arched ceiling decorated with vivid
paintings of a forest. The decoration took Tweed back to the atmosphere near Pinedale. Marienetta was unusually quiet until the coffee had been served. Paula realized
Marienetta was keeping quiet until the waitress vanished.
The only other customer was a well-dressed old lady sitting
at a table a good way off in the back.

'Coffee's not bad,' said Tweed.

'I want to thank you for answering my distress call so
quickly,' Marienetta began. 'You, Mr Tweed, were the
only person I could think of who would quieten her. And
you did, most ably. She was working herself up into a major
fit. The doctor prescribed Valium but of course she forgets
to take it.'

'How long has she suffered from these outbursts?' asked
Tweed.

'Ever since early childhood. I can usually soothe her down but, as you saw, there are times when she goes
volcanic. And I'm worried about this crazy idea of hers
to marry Jack. My uncle is livid, but as she's thirty, five
years younger than me, he can't stop her.'

'Has she always been jealous of you?' Tweed wondered.
'It's usually the youngest who gets all the attention.'

'I know.' She paused, drank coffee. 'It's embarrassing to
explain. But Uncle - Roman - soon decided my intellect
was more powerful than hers. I'm quoting him, so don't
think I'm egotistical. As to Black Jack, she's quite capable of throwing him over suddenly. She's done that with two
other men she proposed marrying. When they didn't agree
with her over something, she kicked them out.'

'Didn't you say she was in charge of armaments at
ACTIL?' he recalled. 'Explosives. Is that a good idea?'

'I was just going to tell you the other side of Sophie. At
science she's brilliant. Broden has a watching brief over
that department, so she's not on her own.'

'Can't imagine she likes Broden. A rough type.'

'Oddly enough they get on well together. I did think of
calling Broden when the crisis built up but his solution
could have been to slam a fist into Black Jack.'

'Diamond can look after himself.'

'I thought of that. I decided you were by far the one man
who could handle it quietly but decisively.' She smiled.
'And I was right.' It was a ravishing smile without a hint
of flirtation. 'Maybe the two of us could have dinner
somewhere nice one evening. I prefer more mature men
-
anyone younger is so macho these days. Have only one
thought in mind where a woman is concerned.'